


Not a Pikachu

by InkyNix



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Pikachu's not nice in this one, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkyNix/pseuds/InkyNix
Summary: Mimikyu hadn't always hated Pikachu. It used to respect Pikachu as much as everyone else in their species. But things change when you've been beaten down time and time again for not being something different.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first work on Ao3! I hope you guys like it!

Mimikyu hasn’t always felt this way about Pikachu. They’d once felt the same way about Pikachu as the rest of their species.

It is well known that all Mimikyu dressed as Pikachu as a way to become accepted and able to live among those of Alola. No one really knew if Mimikyu hatched that way after a while or if their costumes were gifted, but rarely did people question it. All they knew is that, to a blind eye, a Mimikyu looked like a Pikachu. That meant that a lot of people looking for a good first Pokemon for themselves or their child would find Mimikyu on accident, thinking it was a Pikachu. Usually this ended well, with the trainer loving their Pokemon all the same. That wasn’t the case with this specific Mimikyu.

Mimikyu’s first ‘trainer’, if you could even call it that, had been a young boy. His parents had been looking for a Pikachu for his birthday, and after not being able to find one on their native island of Ula’ula, they found him a Mimikyu.

Mimikyu had been congratulated after being caught by the fellow Pokemon in their habitat. To tell you the truth, they were excited. They were going to have a trainer! They could only imagine the look on the boy’s face when he got him as his Pokemon!

To say that the reaction hadn’t been what Mimikyu was expecting was a huge understatement.

“This isn’t Pikachu! I want a Pikachu!” The boy blubbered while his parents tried to calm him. Mimikyu, donning a pretty red bow around their neck, could only watch as the boy refused them. He wanted Pikachu. Mimikyu wasn’t a Pikachu.

Mimikyu knew that they should have expected this from the beginning, but it didn’t soften the blow. Not long after that did the boy’s parents give them away, trading them for a Pikachu to give the boy.

Mimikyu’s new trainer was a man who collected and sold Pokemon. His goal was to teach Mimikyu the move Thunderbolt and sell them off some ignorant tourists, claiming it to be an ‘Alolan Pikachu’.

What should have been a quick swipe of a TM turned into hour after hour of grueling training. The man believed that TMs diminished the value of the Pokemon he was selling and believed that nobody would actually think that Mimikyu was a Pikachu unless they performed the move ‘naturally’. The man would have his own Pikachu perform the move on Mimikyu until the Pokemon could barely stand, and whip them if they dared stumble.

After a month and a half of abuse, Mimikyu was finally able to produce a pitiful shock that they’re not entirely sure how they managed to this day. Upon showing the man, however, they were greeted with a sharp thwack to the face with a whip.

“You expect anyone to believe you’re a Pikachu with that? That could barely pass for a Thunder Shock!” The Man sneered at them, “Arceus, you really are useless!”

Mimikyu struggled to their feet, their disguise busted and hanging limply. They looked up at the man and the Pikachu on his shoulders, their vision wavering. The Pikachu giggled and purred at their pain, and for the first time, Mimikyu felt hatred for the disgusting yellow rats. The yellow rats they were once told were the most well-loved Pokemon in all of Alola, nay, the whole world. They wanted to spit at their stupid red-cheeked faces.

The man took Mimikyu to Melemele Island not too long after that, putting them on display for a group of tourists.

“Step right up, ladies and gents!” The man’s tone was one that Mimikyu had never heard before, and one that sickened them with its faux sweetness, “Who wants to take this beauty home? Alolan Pikachu only appear to very special trainers! And get a load of this; this little guy is electric-type and fairy-type! Just goes to show you how these regional variants are! What do you say folks?”

Most people had passed them by without much of a glance, and those that did stop regarded the man with annoyance. “That’s not a Pikachu!” “My tour guide said that Pikachu doesn’t have an Alolan variant, you phony!” “Ew, it looks dirty! Who’d want that?”

Each remark, every glare the man shot them, every comparison to the electric mouse Pokemon set Mimikyu’s blood to ice. They could still feel the cuts across their body, the abuse they had taken from this bastard so that they could pass as a Pikachu to these ungrateful snotty tourists. They couldn’t take this anymore. They wouldn’t take this anymore.

So, as the Man turned and gave them a venomous glare, Mimikyu shot a Shadow Ball at his face and turned tail.

Mimikyu had never ran so fast. They cut through bushes and shrubs, feeling the sharp branches tug at their disguise, and they could hear the man screaming at them even after they knew they’d ran far away from him. Their brain wouldn’t stop throwing every nasty thought that had ever been suggested to them, but they all landed on two in particular. Not a Pikachu, not a Pikachu, not a Pikachu. Worthless, worthless, worthless.

Mimikyu finally slowed to a stop next to a puddle of stagnant rain water on the ground, out of breath. They caught their reflection in the puddle of water, the crudely drawn face of their costume staring back at them. They despised it. It was everything that people wanted them to be, but they never could be. They wanted to be loved, but nobody loved dirty, ratty old Mimikyu. Only Pikachu. Always Pikachu.

They could feel their eyes getting wet, and their vision started to blur. The reflection staring back at them was shattered as teardrops hit the water and sent ripples across the surface. They poked a hand out from under their disguise, looking at the deep black claws. They could be so much better than Pikachu. So much stronger, cuter, more wonderful.

They would prove it, even if nobody believed in them. Even if everyone wished they were something else.

No more Pikachu. Only Mimikyu.


End file.
